


Don't Think I Want What I Used to Want

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7111831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy has a compass that points to what his heart most desires, which, as a pirate, must be treasure, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Think I Want What I Used to Want

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a Pirates of the Caribbean AU but clearly some of my inspiration comes from the series. Also this is in no way historically accurate.

Bellamy supposes he’s not really a prisoner on Captain Clarke Griffin’s ship, but he’s not exactly allowed to leave either. Not that he has anywhere to go, seeing as she and her crew fucking sunk his ship to the bottom of the ocean. He’d honestly prefer to be lying on the ocean floor with his wreckage of a ship than forced to help the pirate who sank it, but according to her she saved his life and lives of his crew so now he owes her. Why she hadn’t just killed him and taken what she wanted he’ll never know, but since he’s alive he’s not letting the compass out of his grasp, and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take it. Clarke seems to know this, so she doesn’t try to take it from him. Instead she just forces him into the role of co-sailing master (a fair step down from the captain he’d been on his own ship, as far as he’s concerned), and makes him navigate, while Raven steers the ship. Because, while he’s holding the compass, it points to what his heart most desires, which apparently happens to be what Clarke’s heart most desires as well. Treasure.

Bellamy and his crew had been heading  for what they’d been told was a crypt of an old king, and as legend had it the crypt was full of the king’s possessions, including but not limited to more gold than even a pirate like Bellamy himself could dream of. Unfortunately, Bellamy’s compass, the only thing that would lead them there, hasn’t exactly been his best kept secret, and Clarke and her crew weren’t the only ones who came after him. They were just the only ones who succeeded.

So now Clarke has him and the rest of his crew either locked up or working for her, which she thinks is great because for some reason she seems to be short a few crew members. 

Of course not all of them get the good jobs like navigation. Murphy and Jasper get stuck scrubbing decks and they both assure Bellamy that all he has to do is say the word and they’ll kill the captain.

“We don’t need to kill her,” Bellamy assures them. “We’ll follow the compass to the crypt, and once we’re there we’ll grab as much as we can carry and steal the ship.” Murphy and Jasper are supposed to be doing some kind of menial work, but they’ve accosted Bellamy on his way across to the captain’s cabin so they can tell him of their incredible plans for mutiny. (Although is it really mutiny if you’re a prisoner?)

“But if we kill her-,” Murphy objects.

“We’re not killing her,” Bellamy says flatly and Murphy rolls his eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve come to that decision,” comes a voice from behind them and Bellamy whirls around to see none other than the captain herself standing there. She doesn’t look at all phased by Murphy and Jasper’s plans to murder her, in fact she almost seems amused by it. Bellamy isn’t really sure how much of the conversation she overheard, but he figures she probably already knows he’s been planning to steal her ship. They’ll just have to be more cunning about it now.

“Can’t really blame them for wanting you dead though, can you?” Bellamy says. Clarke raises an eyebrow at him.

“I suppose not,” she agrees. “Anyway, if you’re done planning my demise would you hurry up? I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You’re in, Bellamy,” Murphy snorts and Jasper chortles at the insinuation. Bellamy ignores them both.

“Lead the way,” he says to Clarke, who gives Murphy such a stare that makes him stop snickering at once before she leads Bellamy to the great cabin.

“I thought you might like to dine with me tonight,” Clarke says once Bellamy shuts the door behind him.

“And why would you think that?” Bellamy scoffs. What he’d like is to throw her overboard but she _did_ save his life, even if he didn’t really want to be saved.

“I thought maybe we could discuss some kind of deal. One where we both benefit and you don’t leave me for dead once we’ve found this treasure,” Clarke shrugs. Bellamy isn’t convinced. “Plus you’ll get a nice hot meal instead of the scraps we’ve been feeding you and your crew.”

“Do my crew get hot food too?”

“If we strike the right deal,” Clarke smiles nonchalantly and Bellamy can’t help but scowl at her.

“Fine,” he agrees and stalks out of the cabin back on deck before she can dismiss him.

-

Bellamy is pretty determined to hate Clarke Griffin. The ship she sunk, The Ghost of the Morning, was his pride and joy and he’s not ashamed to admit he cried when the cannonballs destroyed the hull and sent it to its watery grave on the ocean floor. He’s even more mad that she’s a better pirate than him, as much as he hates to admit it to himself. But it’s kind of hard to deny when his is the ship in pieces and hers is the one he’s currently imprisoned on.

So he purposefully makes her wait, dawdling along when Charlotte comes to get him, and refusing to clean himself up at all before dinner. He’s never even done that for people he _likes._ He kind of regrets it when he walks into the cabin though, because she _has_ cleaned up, as much as one can on a pirate ship, and she looks (dare he say) radiant. Of course, he’d already known she was gorgeous, any fool could see that. There are plenty of stories of her floating around, how she uses her looks to swindle men out of anything from the clothes to their mansions. When he’d first seen her he thought these stories must have been greatly exaggerated. Looking at her now, her captain’s hat put away, her face clean, her blonde curls falling gently on her shoulders, he might almost believe the stories could be true. Except for the fact that he’s actually seen her in action and he’s pretty sure she could take anything from any man without him ever even seeing her.

“You look… nice,” Bellamy says and then he immediately wishes he hadn’t because he _really_ doesn’t want to seem like he wants anything more from her than her fucking ship and some king’s treasure from the crypt.

“You don’t,” Clarke screws up her nose. “Didn’t Charlotte ask you if you wanted to clean up?”

“Uh…” Bellamy hesitates because now he realises how he’s been acting like a petty child.

“Let me guess, she _did_ ask you and you told her to fuck off,” Clarke tilts her head knowingly.

“Sounds about right,” Bellamy nods.

“Impossible,” Clarke mutters under her breath. She sits down at the table where the food has already been served and motions for Bellamy to sit across from her.

“So, what’s this deal you have in mind?” Bellamy asks as he sits down and starts digging in to the hot stew in front of him.

“Straight to the point are we?” Clarke chuckles, watching him.

“Sorry, did you want to talk about the weather for a bit first?” Bellamy rolls his eyes and shovels more food into his mouth.

“I was hoping I could get you drunk first and then you might be more likely to agree,” Clarke grins and Bellamy snorts. “Wine?” Clarke offers and Bellamy accepts, despite her previous confession.

“So?” he prompts and Clarke takes a deep breath.

“You may have noticed my crew is a little short,” she starts and Bellamy nods. She really should have twice as many people. “I thought we could join forces. We’d be stronger together. There are a lot of stories about the captain of The Ghost of the Morning.”

“There’s a lot of stories about the captain of The Raging Duchess too,” Bellamy says pointedly. “Doesn’t mean they’re true.”

“But some of them are,” Clarke says a mischievous smirk just twitching at the corners of her lips, and Bellamy finds himself almost entranced by them. His eyes flick back up to hers before he can dwell on the thought.

“Is this why you kept us alive then?” he asks her.

“We don’t kill people anymore,” Clarke replies, and Bellamy feels like there’s more to that story but he doesn’t push it.

“What are my other options? This deal or what? You’ll just lock me up?” he asks.

“You give me the compass and we’ll drop you off at the nearest port,” Clarke offers.

“Not likely,” Bellamy snorts.

“The deal, then,” Clarke shrugs.

“So you’d be the captain and I’d have to serve under you I suppose?” Bellamy says.

“Well, I don’t currently have a quartermaster,” Clarke tells him. “We could be equals.” Bellamy stares at her, mulling it over.

“I want a revote,” Bellamy tells her.

“What?”

“We’ll join your crew but we vote on a new captain,” Bellamy says. Clarke purses her lips at him. “What’s the matter? Don’t think you could win?” he taunts.

“Of course I could win,” Clarke scoffs, but she still pauses to think it over. “I agree to your terms. _But_ we do the vote after we’ve found the crypt. Deal?” Clarke holds out her hand for him to shake. Bellamy grins at her and grasps her hand, shaking it firmly, sealing the deal.

-

Bellamy stops actively trying to hate her after that, which is probably a big mistake, because now not only does he not hate her, but he actually _likes_ her. Thankfully none of his crew holds it against him since once they are allowed on deck again and start getting fed properly they start to like her too.

Clarke names him temporary quartermaster, a title Bellamy thinks is unnecessary but it makes her feel better so he goes with it.

“Just until we do the vote,” she promises.

Raven checks in with him periodically to make sure they’re still heading in the right direction, but other than that, his duties as sailing master are pretty much over. The rest of Bellamy’s crew manage to slot in almost effortlessly, in the various jobs Clarke doesn’t have anyone to fill. She still makes Murphy and Jasper scrub the decks though.

“They did want to kill me, after all,” she tells Bellamy when he informs her that the two boys aren’t exactly thrilled with their new roles.

“It will be a shame if Murphy wins the vote for captain and makes you scrub the decks,” Bellamy jokes and he can’t help but feel pleased with himself when Clarke barks out a laugh.

“Please,” she grins. “He’s more likely to win the vote for being thrown overboard.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll gladly help you do the throwing,” Bellamy promises.

-

Bellamy dines with Clarke every night in the great cabin while the rest of the crew get rowdy together in the lower decks.

“How far away do you think we are from the crypt?” Clarke asks him. Bellamy shrugs.

“No idea. The compass only tells me which direction, nothing else,” he says.

“So really we could be _months_ away,” Clarke sighs.

“But we could be days away,” Bellamy reminds her and she nods, taking a sip of her ale. Bellamy does the same and there’s a comfortable silence while he watches her sip her wine in the warm glow of the candlelight before he speaks again. “Did you eat alone before I came along?”

“What?”

“I mean, it seems strange to invite me to dine with you when you have a whole ship load of friends you could choose from. Which makes me think you’re just doing this to keep me happy and you’d rather be alone,” Bellamy shrugs.

“No, I don’t want to be alone,” Clarke tells him. She pauses and Bellamy waits for her to continue. “I used to eat with the quartermaster before you, but… she died. Her name was Lexa.”

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy says softly. He can tell by Clarke’s tone that Lexa must have been important to her.

“And she wasn’t the only one who died, that’s why I only have a shell of a crew. It was a year ago now, but I’ve had a lot of trouble finding people to replace them. Seems like less and less people think pirating is a viable career.” Clarke cracks a smile, but Bellamy doesn’t return it. He studies her for a moment and she screws up her nose under his scrutiny. “Go on, ask me,” she says.

“How did they die?”

“It was my fault,” she says and Bellamy tries to interrupt to tell her that can’t be true but she stops him. “It was,” she says seriously. “I killed someone out of anger, the captain of another ship. It was only a month later when his crew attacked. We won, I guess. But we lost too.”

“That’s why you don’t kill people anymore,” Bellamy deduces and Clarke nods. He doesn’t know what else he can say so he just reaches across the table to hold her hand, merely a gesture of comfort. But when she smiles and gives his hand a firm squeeze to let him know she’s okay, he feels something in his chest clench and he lets her go reluctantly, feeling the urge to pull her closer instead. He takes a long drink from his cup to busy his hand again.

-

“What do you and Clarke talk about?” his sister asks him one night when he returns to his bunk after his dinner with Clarke. Octavia is already in bed, but she’s clearly been waiting for him.

“Captain stuff,” Bellamy shrugs, pulling off his boots. He doesn’t mind sharing a room with Octavia, he knows there’s only one private room on the ship and that’s reserved for the captain. And it’s better than sleeping with the rest of the crew.

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I like her,” Bellamy says, crawling into his bunk.

“So does everyone else,” Octavia tells him. “She’s going to win the vote for captain you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bellamy replies. He finds he doesn’t really mind though.

-

It’s not that Bellamy doesn’t see the warning signs. He’s obviously attracted to her, (but who could blame him, really?), and he’s caught himself more than once thinking out how he’d like to press her against the wall and just kiss her until she begs him for more. He also knows he’s spending much more time with Clarke than with anyone from even his own crew. He knows he touches her whenever he can, and he can feel his heart race and his stomach lurch whenever they come into contact, or when she smiles at him. It’s a far cry from when she first dragged him onto her ship, so yeah, he notices the change in his behaviour. It’s just, he doesn’t recognise it for what it really is.

Being captain of a ship whose crew consists of a bunch of men and his sister, Bellamy hasn’t spent long periods of time in the company of women, and he’s had flings of course, plenty of them, but he’s never had _feelings_. So he doesn’t really think anything of it. He just considers her his friend. His best friend maybe, but still, just a friend.

It’s not until they’ve been sailing for four weeks that he finally catches on.

He decides to have dinner with the crew one night, because Octavia asks him to, and Miller and Murphy convince him to because they feel like they hardly see him anymore. He asks Clarke if she wants to come but she declines. He wonders if it’s because she still feels guilty about half her crew being killed.

Bellamy isn’t exactly surprised that the rest of the crew get roaring drunk almost every night, it’s not any different from when he was captain of his own ship. He drinks his fair share as well of course and the conversation turns to who’s fucking who, and Bellamy has to admit to himself that he’s missed these bits of gossip.

“So is it my imagination or is there something going on between Miller and Monty?” Raven asks.

“That’s old news!” Miller scoffs. “What’s really interesting is Murphy and Emori have been fucking and he hasn’t been bragging about it! Wonder what that means?”

“Fuck off, Miller!” Murphy shouts.

“Emori’s been bragging enough for the two of them!” Harper snorts.

“What about Octavia and Lincoln?” Emori says slyly, shooting a glance at Bellamy.

“Too much information,” Bellamy says in disgust. “I really don’t need to know.”

“Okay, who’s got the goss on Bellamy?” Raven grins. “Who’s going to own up to being his fuck buddy?” she looks around the group.

“He’s obviously fucking the captain,” Murphy rolls his eyes. Bellamy feels irrationally angry at that comment and he scowls at Murphy.

“No I’m not,” he says.

“Seriously?” Murphy scoffs. “Why the fuck not?”

“Yeah, Bellamy,” Jasper interjects. “What do you do all that time with her if you’re not screwing?”

“We just talk,” Bellamy shrugs.

“So are you saying you _don’t_ want her?” Murphy asks in disbelief. Bellamy can feel all eyes in the room on him but he can’t seem to form a coherent thought in his head, let alone make any words come out of his mouth. Of _course_ he wants her. But why would he want to screw up what they have by trying to sleep with her? He respects her too much to just have a few casual trysts with her and then move on.  And anyway, he wants more than that. Which, _fuck_ , he hadn’t realised until this very moment, probably the worst time to figure it out, when the whole crew is staring at him, waiting for him to say _something_.

“No, I don’t want her,” he finally says. “I don’t think of her like that.” His words seem to satisfy the crowd and they move on to teasing Harper for trying to hook up with Monty because she didn’t realise he was gay. Bellamy makes his excuses and leaves, heading back to his room so he can torture himself with thoughts of Clarke.

-

He does his best to act normal around Clarke after his realisation, and he thinks he does a pretty good job. He has to hold himself back more, stop himself from brushing a stray hair from her face or glancing at her cleavage in her loose fitting shirt. It’s hard because now that he _knows_ how he feels about her, he only wants her more, and she’s on his mind almost every waking moment, and a lot of his sleeping moment too. He doesn’t think she notices, but then everything gets worse.

He’s standing at the prow of the ship with Clarke and she’s laughing at something he said, which means he’s grinning from ear to ear, gazing at her like it’s the last time he’ll ever see her, when Charlotte interrupts them to inform him Raven wants to check in with him. He immediately pulls the compass out and checks it, frowning when he sees it’s no longer pointing straight out to sea. Instead it’s pointing directly to his right. He’d only checked it a day ago, they couldn’t have gotten _that_ far off course in such a short amount of time.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asks him, and Bellamy’s stomach drops as he looks up from the compass to meet her eyes, directly to his right. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe they _have_ just gotten of course. Maybe Raven got confused and turned the ship. But as he steps back, so she’s standing on more of an angle to him, the dial moves and it’s still pointing at her and he knows he’s totally screwed.

“Nothing,” he mutters in response to Clarke’s question. He flips the compass shut and turns to Charlotte. “Tell Raven we’re still on course.” Charlotte nods and runs off to Raven.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clarke asks. “You look kind of pale.”

“I actually don’t feel that well,” he tells her, which is not a complete lie. “I think I’m going to lie down for a while.” Clarke nods and Bellamy flees, his head spinning and chest tight as he thinks about what this means. He secludes himself in his quarters and lies face down on his bunk, wondering how the hell he’s going to get out of this one.

-

Octavia comes to see him a little later to see how he’s doing.

“Clarke told me you were sick,” she says as she sits beside him on his bed. Bellamy sits up to look at his sister.

“You could say that,” he groans.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Octavia scoffs. Bellamy rubs his face and ignores her question.

“What does your heart most desire?” he asks her instead.

“The treasure in the crypt, obviously,” Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Bellamy says seriously and he can see Octavia’s confusion in her expression.

“I think you’re delirious,” she says and Bellamy huffs.

“I’m not delirious. Just you have to be sure okay? If I gave you this compass,” he pulls it out again and waves it in front of her, “would it point to the crypt?”

“Yeah,” Octavia nods. “Why?”

“I need you to use it, okay? You’re the only one they’d believe I’d give it to. Tell everyone I’m too sick to come out,” he tells her desperately.

“What’s going on?” she asks him as she takes the compass. “You’re obviously not really that sick. Why do you need me to do it?” Bellamy swallows. He doesn’t really want to tell her, but he knows she’s not going to leave him alone until he does.

“It doesn’t work for me anymore,” he says, hoping that’s enough.

“Well how do you know it will work for me?”

“Look,” Bellamy sighs. “The compass itself still works,” he pauses and Octavia looks at him expectantly and he’s wondering why she can’t just figure it out herself so he doesn’t have to say it out loud. “It just… doesn’t point to the treasure for me anymore.” Octavia stares at him for a moment before she speaks.

“It points to…” she trails off, but Bellamy knows she’s finally caught on and he nods.

“You could tell her,” Octavia says.

“She doesn’t want me like that,” Bellamy mutters.

“I disagree,” Octavia says. “Everyone from her crew says they haven’t seen her this happy since Lexa died.”

“Exactly, so why would I want to screw that up?”

“You’re an idiot,” Octavia huffs and Bellamy shrugs.

“Will you help me or not?” he asks.

“Fine but once this is over you better fucking tell her.”

-

It’s only a few hours until Octavia is back, bringing food this time.

“Clarke wants to see you,” she says.

“Did you tell her I’m too sick?”

“Yeah, that only made her want to see you more. Did you not know she’s also the medic on this ship?” Octavia reminds him.

“Fuck, I forgot,” Bellamy groans. “What am I going to do?”

“You know what I think you should do,” Octavia snorts and Bellamy screws up his nose. “She’s just outside the door so she’s probably eavesdropping. Should I send her in?” Bellamy hesitates and Octavia gives him a look that says “you’re totally pathetic”, so he sighs and relents.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees and Octavia tosses the compass at him as she leaves. He clutches it to his chest and it almost feels as if it has a heartbeat of its own. Clarke walks into the room then and he swallows, his heartbeat speeding up.

“Okay, let’s see what’s wrong with you,” she says as she strides over to him, she sits beside him on his bed and all he can do is stare at her as she places a hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” she muses. “How do you feel exactly? Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“Kind of,” Bellamy says wryly.

“What other symptoms do you have?” she asks, all business, and Bellamy only finds it endearing. “How’s your head?”

“A little cloudy,” he admits hoarsely. Clarke grabs his wrist and presses her thumb against his pulse point.

“Your pulse is racing,” she notes.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Well, it could be-,” she starts, but Bellamy cuts her off.

“I’m not sick, Clarke,” he tells her, and she frowns at him.

“Then why did you say you were?” she asks. “And you have all these symptoms,” she starts again, trying to diagnose him with an illness he definitely doesn’t have. “Besides, you must be pretty sick to let anyone else get a hold of that compass,” she nods at the artefact he’s still clutching.

“Yeah, that was for a different reason,” he admits. “I just said I was sick because I thought that was easier than telling you the truth.”

“Which is what?”

“That compass is never going to lead us to the crypt while I’m holding it,” he sighs. “Turns out treasure isn’t what my heart most desires after all.”

“So you’ve been lying this whole time?” Clarke cries angrily, standing up. Bellamy follows her up, leaving the compass on the bed, his heart in his throat. “Where exactly have we been heading then? Just leading me on some wild goose chase while you figure out how to take over my ship?”

“Clarke,” Bellamy tries to interrupt.

 “I should’ve known better than to trust a pirate! I should’ve-,” she rants.

“Clarke!”

“- taken that compass from you and locked you up, then none of this would have happened and -,”

“For fuck’s sake,” Bellamy mutters, before he grabs her around the waist and kisses her midsentence, his tongue sliding into her open mouth easily, and she immediately melts against him, to his pleasant surprise, (he’d half been expecting a slap, which he probably would have deserved) and kisses him back as her arms slide around his neck. He tries not to get too carried away, but god, she tastes so good, and the feel of her tongue against his is almost too much to bear. He has to exercise all the restraint he has to keep his hands from sliding under her clothes, or pulling them off completely so he can fuck her right there.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, pulling back slightly.

“Trying to tell you something,” he murmurs back, brushing her lips lightly with his. “I haven’t been leading you on a wild goose chase, or trying to steal your ship. We _were_ heading towards the crypt. But, I don’t know, sometime yesterday or this morning, the compass stopped pointing to it.”

“Oh,” Clarke replies.

“Yeah,” Bellamy laughs, and he thought this would be much harder, but her response to his kiss has him feeling more confident and hopeful, plus the fact that she’s still clinging to him. “It points to you now, in case you hadn’t figured that part out.”

“No, I got that,” Clarke says.

“So, uh, if you want to take the compass so we can actually keep heading towards the crypt, go ahead,” Bellamy tells her, because he doesn’t know what else to say really. He’s confessed the truth to her, and he doesn’t really want to ask anything of her, in case she’s not ready. But he really would like to kiss her again.

“The thing is,” Clarke says, “I’m not totally convinced it would point to the crypt for me either.”

“Oh?” Bellamy raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing across his lips. “You want to test that theory?”

“Later,” Clarke says, returning his smile. “I have a better idea for now,” she says seductively, leaning in to kiss him slowly.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asks her. “I don’t want to rush you. But just so you know, I really want you. Like, all of you. Forever.”

“I know what the compass means, Bellamy,” Clarke chuckles. “And I want you too. Besides, the whole crew already thinks we’re fucking. Who are we to prove them wrong?”

“I’ve never heard a better reason to have sex,” Bellamy laughs, and he revels in the sound of Clarke laughing with him, before she cuts off his laughter with a kiss that gets skin tingling and his pulse racing, and this time he doesn’t bother trying to show any restraint.

-

They reach the crypt eventually, when Bellamy reluctantly hands the compass over to Raven (seeing as it’s totally useless in Clarke’s hands too, much to his delight), but they don’t find any gold. What they find instead is books, thousands of them, which honestly Bellamy thinks is almost as good. He wants to keep them, but Clarke wants to sell them, which is what in the end really wins her the vote for captain.

“Sorry Bell, we can’t eat books,” Octavia tells him. “What kind of pirate are you anyway?”

“I can’t believe you voted for Clarke over me,” he says, offended.

“Hey, you’re still the quartermaster. She’s never going to make any decisions without you,” Octavia points out.

“Except for the books,” Bellamy mutters, but she does let him keep a few.

“And you still get to sleep in the captain’s quarters,” Octavia reminds him. Which does perk him up a bit, but only because he remembers he gets to share them with Clarke, and that, as it turns out, is all is heart truly desires.


End file.
